Tuesday, November 22, 2005

3 poems by Jordan Stempleman


for Bella

the casual work before leaving for continuing work

is to hand over two broken pencils

for each of her hands

two in one hand

and she says

letters are more than words

her kind of letters

so not really said to anyone else

she knows




with sitting comes how far to sink

reaching up again

to match the needed height

where by all sides there becomes

the one person

the start of something pushed




though for the sake of explaining a newish dance

plenty may clear and call it

what you would call it

there will be a right number

one to sing through

as if to sit up and forget the singing

was the thing

that flew out and quit being frightened

and inside